


I'm Low on Gas and You Need a Jacket (DOMINICK "SONNY" CARISI JR.)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit RPF
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7539106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word count: 2562</p><p>Requested: Yes</p><p>Warnings: Fighting, yelling, mentions of sexual activity, anxiety, domestic disputes</p><p>sonny carisi is my JAM</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Low on Gas and You Need a Jacket (DOMINICK "SONNY" CARISI JR.)

You knew what was coming when Sonny laid down beside you, still trying to catch his breath. You had tasted it on his lips, caught it in his kisses, felt it in the pads of his fingers. He wanted more.

So when he said the words, you weren’t surprised. He mumbled them into the shell of your ear as he kissed it, sighing as his arms melded to your waist. You were frozen, not sure what to say. “Did you hear me, doll?” Sonny’s voice was low and rough around the edges, but you didn’t mind. It was sexy.

“Yeah,” You nodded and turned in his arms, tossing a leg over his waist, shivering as the sweat on your body cooled. He smiled at you, kissing you once, before grasping the comforter, tugging it over your bodies.

“I’m serious, you know?” His Staten Island lilt seemed heavier post-coitous, but you didn’t mind that either. It was also sexy, “I don’t want to be just some guy you bed every once in awhile. We’re great friends and this,” Sonny smirked and chuckled, “I wouldn’t give this up for the world. But, I’m just saying, that we could be so much more. There’s so much opportunity here.”

And you knew he was right, because you could see yourself with Sonny outside of the bedroom, in the bar but not as friends or drinking buddies. You could see his hands clasped in yours, his lunch in your hands as you delivered it to him at work.

But you could also see the fights, his face flushed with anger instead of arousal, fists clenched, veins popping out as he yelled at you.

The bad outweighed the good.

“Sonny,” And he sighed when you drawled out his name, “I know that you want more.” Sonny pulled away, untangling you as he easily swung his lanky legs over the side of your bed. “Sonny!” You sat up and reached for him, panic rushing through your veins. He scoffed and waved you off, pulling up his boxers after he managed to get them over his feet. His face was pulled down, like it was weighted, and your stomach dropped. You had never seen him so upset, so torn up, and the fact that you had made him feel like that…

“Don’t _Sonny_ me,” He growled, “Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but if it’s just,” He angrily gestured at the bed where you had laid with him seconds prior, “This, I don’t want it anymore. I’m not a body to keep you warm.” You stood, too, putting on your underclothes as you stumbled through the doorway where Sonny had disappeared.

“I know that!” You found him trying to find his tie, buttoning up his wrinkled shirt. “Sonny, I know you’re more than a body.” He whipped around and inhaled quickly, trying not to lose his temper on you, standing in the doorway.

“If you knew that-!” He cut himself off, pushing his curling hair back over his forehead. He was red in the face, just like you had seen in your visions of fights five minutes prior. “If you knew that, then you wouldn’t keep calling me and asking me to come over.” And Sonny, well, he had a point. You had called him that night when you were lonely and his hands on your body had been the warmth you needed to get through the night. “I can’t do this anymore, but apparently you can. I can’t keep doing this. I want more, okay? And if you don’t, you need to tell me right now. I want a family, I want a life with you, or at least, someone. I can’t keep coming over on nights when I could go on dates, find someone to settle down with. Have _kids_ with. You don’t get it.” Your face flushed and everything around you seemed to stop.

“I do get it, Sonny,” And you were prepared to beg because it was going to put a stop in your friendship, in your life with Sonny in it. He scoffed again, waving you off as he kept trying to get ready to leave your apartment, “Please,” You begged, stepping forward, “Please, Sonny.”  
  
“Please what?”  
  
“Stay.” It was a feeble attempt, and you weren’t sure what you meant by it. You couldn’t have a relationship with him because it wouldn’t turn out right, wouldn’t be what you thought or what Sonny thought.

It never was.

He stopped and looked at you, a look on your face that you had never seen before. He looked disgusted, almost. Revolted at the thought of staying with you.

“You just want me to stay so you can put me to bed again.” He snarled, “I won’t. You can’t give me what I want.” He put his shoes on with ease and then slammed your door on his way out. Everything about the way the fight had gone down made your stomach drop and you made your way back to your room to dress in your pajamas, taking one look at the mussed bed before you turned to go sleep on the couch. You thought about crying, but you weren’t sure why. Sonny was your friend, one of your best, and he was a hell of a lay.

But that’s not what you were really thinking about.

You were thinking about Sonny in the way everyone else had seen him, the way that all of the women he rejected at the bars saw him. The funny, easygoing man who was great with kids. You saw the way his eyes squinted when he laughed, the way he gestured when he got into a story that was going too quickly for you to keep up with. You saw the ways that his hands dragged over your shoulders in the hug, the way he held you too close.

You saw Sonny in a way that you hadn’t seen him before.

In the way he had seen you, you guessed. How long had he been sitting on the feelings for them to saturate his kiss, every touch, every movement of his body against yours? Months, maybe before you had even suggested being friends with benefits. Guilt overtook you and you shook, hands covering your face.

You hadn’t wanted to hurt him, never, he was too nice, too caring, too good to be hurt in the way you had hurt him. Or was it betrayal? Either way, it was wrong. And you needed to fix it.

He couldn’t have gotten far- you checked the time and choked on a gasp. It had been nearly an hour since he slammed your door. Sonny was probably at his apartment or at a bar somewhere, but you were banking on his apartment. Hoping, pleading with whatever you believed in as you hailed a cab. Adrenaline was bouncing through you, making your heart rate faster than the cab you were in. Both things screeched to a halt outside of his apartment building and the doorman’s face changed when you stepped into the night that never seemed to darken in New York.

“I’m sorry,” The doorman explained when you rushed toward him, “I’m not supposed to let you in.” Your gut twisted.

“Ordered by who?”

“Mister Carisi. Said he didn’t want to see you tonight. He looked pretty upset, is everything okay?” And no, no everything was not okay but you still nodded and asked the man to tell Sonny you had been there before hailing another cab and making your way home.

* * *

Your mattress was empty, stars falling and burning the world around you. If you hadn’t have opened your mouth, told him no, brushed off the subject…

You didn’t want to be hurt again.

You couldn’t be hurt again.

But you couldn’t lose Sonny.

So when the dawn broke over your window, shining in your already awake eyes, you stood. Your limbs felt like they were each one hundred pounds and your spine felt numb with sickness and sadness. You didn’t have work- it was a Saturday- but you knew Sonny would be at the precinct. The news had reported a rape barely three blocks from your apartment thirty minutes after you had gotten home and you knew that Sonny and his team would be on that case.

You almost didn’t go see him because, well, he didn’t want to see you and your problems seemed miniscule compared to the woman who had just had her life ruined, but you couldn’t wait any longer. It had been twelve hours but it felt like you were rotting from the inside out and you knew that Sonny would make you feel better.

The rain was pouring down when you were finally ready and you were soaked by the time you made it into his work, shaking in the elevator like a wet dog. The doors opened and you stood there so long you barely had enough time to get through them before they closed and then you were just standing, watching.

It was obvious he didn’t have time for you, but you still needed to try. He was at his desk, hunched over paperwork with bags under his eyes. You felt like you had taken a paintbrush covered in lilac to his face, knowing you were the cause of his sleep depravity.

“What’re you doing here?” His cold voice stopped half of the detectives in their tracks and the shaking of your body transferred into your hands as they trembled in tandem with your lower lip, “I told you not to show up at work,” Which was a lie. He had asked you to show up at his job to head out to dinner or to lunch or to the bar, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like he genuinely meant that he didn’t want you there.

A glance over your shoulder showed you that a tall intimidating woman was making her way over, anger on her face. You turned and spoke hurriedly to Sonny before she kicked you out.

“I want to t-talk to you,” You stepped forward, toward his desk, and tried to shake off the feeling that you were being watched. Sonny clenched his jaw and stood, tossing his pen down before grasping your shoulder and leading you away, stopping abruptly and staring at you.

“Well?” Sonny griped, “Talk.”  
  
And you tried to talk, but you couldn’t. He was standing over you, arms crossed, and you trembled. You were scared, “I’m scared.” And that wasn’t what you wanted to say, but you did. “I’m scared of losing you. And I’m scared of not losing you? It doesn’t make sense but I haven’t slept and I can’t think straight, but I know that when you walked out of my door I felt lost.”

Sonny’s jaw jumped again, “You’re not scared of losing me.”  
  
“But I am,” You pressed, stepping toward him, “I’m so afraid of losing you, because you’re one of the most important things in my life right now; and I had to come see you because I understand that, I understand that you’re not going to want what you wanted but if you still want it, come over to my place tonight.” You could see that woman over her shoulder, coming toward the two of you and you shook your head. “If not I understand, okay?” And then you stepped into the elevator.

* * *

You had been waiting for hours, the sun rising and setting in what seemed like one fell swoop and Sonny had not shown up.

Against your better judgement, you left the door unlocked and went to bed, but you didn’t sleep. You twisted and turned, sweating with nightmares and a sick stomach. Maybe you were asleep because when your bedroom door opened so did your eyes, and they tried to focus in the darkness. Whoever was in your bedroom tried to be silent, sneaking up to your bedside without alerting you.

When the bed dipped behind you all of your instincts kicked in and you jumped up, screaming as you tried to find something to throw at the intruder. Both of you yelled out and their- his?- hands flew up to protect him from the book hurtling toward his face. You turned on your bedside lamp and caught your breath when you saw Sonny staring at you with a startled look on his face.

“What are you doing?” He shrieked, “You almost took my friggen’ head off!”

“What are _you_ doing in my house?” You whispered, near hysterical, “It’s three in the morning!” He straightened and his eyes blazed.

“You told me to come here!” And when Sonny jabbed a finger in your direction you crawled over the bed to get to him, kneeling on the edge and pushing him by the chest.

“And you didn’t! You didn’t show up so I went to bed and I had to try to sleep with the knowledge that you don’t want me anymore and now you’re showing up at three in the morning for God knows why!”

Sonny stared at you.

And then he lunged forward, taking your face in his hands before pressing his lips to yours. He as frantic, like he was going to die, and then he pulled away just as quickly as he had grabbed you. “We found the guy who raped the girl near here. I had to go collar him. I couldn’t leave, or call you, okay? I wanted to be here as soon as my shift ended but I couldn’t leave. Hell, I wanted to follow you into that damn elevator. You’re giving me a chance to prove myself, and I’m going to take it.” You pushed yourself up to your feet on the bed and wrapped your arms around Sonny’s shoulders, sighing out.

“I’m not giving you a chance; you’re giving me a chance. You’re the one who’s too good for me.” You cried out when Sonny pushed forward, collapsing on your bed with your body on top of his.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” He asked, nudging your neck with his face, “I’m just a cop from Staten Island,”

“You’re not just a cop, Sonny,” You whispered, kissing his cheek, “Okay? You’re a Detective, and a damn good one. You’re the one who’s the better of two people, here. You’re the one who saves people and I’m the one who fucks up your feelings.”

He pushed you off of him, pulling the comforters over your bodies, still fully dressed in his suits and shoes. “You didn’t fuck up my feelings. I fucked up my feelings by slamming your door on the way out, disrespecting you at the precinct. My Ma raised me better than that and I’ve been fretting all day about how I must have made you feel.”

You kissed him again, not used to being in bed but not being naked. He sighed and threw a leg over your waist.

“You didn’t make me feel anything, Sonny. I reacted to your actions, okay? So you don’t have to feel bad because of what happened. It was mostly my fault because I didn’t realize how _you_ you are.”  
  
Sonny grinned, a real, eye squinting grin, “How _me_ I am? You’re very articulate.” Sonny kissed you again, deeply, seeming happy just to hold you.


End file.
